Lighting the Match

Vittoria

I leaned against the corridor outside my dad's room, arms folded tightly over my chest. The night had clammily gone still, the kind of stillness that pressed down on your bones. The medic had stabilised him again, but comfort had long since departed the term. Stable was like being on the edge of a blade.

Dante stood beside me, his presence bold but reassuring. His cologne lingered in the